A piece about toxic masculinity that is brilliant in concept but limited by the technical expertise of its lovely (but untrained) cast.
The concept for Barrowland Ballet’s Fringe run of Wee Man is incredible. The literal playing field and rules of football are used to highlight the unseen playing field and unspoken rules of everyday masculine expression. And all through movement of a uniquely intergenerational ensemble of teenage and adult men. However, what could have been a theatrical triumph in concept is limited by the questionable lack of dance training for a show that clearly wants to be a dance piece. In other words, there’s an awkward mismatch between form and function that keeps this piece from being as epic as it could be.
Choreographed by Barrowland Ballet founder Natasha GIlmore, Wee Man explores the emotional polarities that result from today’s brand of toxic masculinity. We see moments of untainted tenderness and sweet freedom of expression and, when those are toxically devalued (and forced underneath the metaphorical football jersey) from an early age, the pain, anger, and violence that often emerge.
There is certainly something to be said for casting non-dancers in most of these roles. For one, it likely makes it more relatable to most men in the audience – and the local community cast that are brought on for each performance – who otherwise might not see themselves reflected in highly trained dancer bodies.
There were also moments when the very fact that these were not professional dancers actually told the story more powerfully. In some ways, seeing how hard they were working and how uniquely each of their bodies moved across the stage – laid out simply like a football field, goals at each end – communicated a strong sense of literal and figurative teamwork that might have been lost. There were, however, too many moments when the line between intentional movement and clumsiness was muddied, warranting the question: Is this really the form that this story needs to take? And, more importantly: What is the story really about?
Barrowland Ballet does tout itself as a centre of “artistic excellence.” This doesn’t necessarily mean the highest, most “legit” training from one of the most prestigious (and expensive) dance academies in the world. But it does (in my mind, at least) mean that any given story is allowed to flourish fully within the form that is chosen to convey it. Despite an ingenious idea behind it, Wee Man falls just shy of flourishing.
While it wasn’t billed as strictly a dance piece, there were enough awkward moments throughout when it felt like it was trying to be. Perhaps the piece could have done with more self-awareness on this front, using a mix of trained football players and trained dancers for its cast. The physical leaps for the performers – the stories that are (not) able to be effectively told within their differently trained bodies as well as the stories we project onto those different kinds of bodies – would then become part of the story. Men moving against how their bodies have been trained to move might highlight the rules by which they normally abide. Again, there were also plenty of moments when the very lack of dance prowess by the cast told the story powerfully. These fleeting (yet inconsistent) moments of greatness throughout the piece suggest a lack of narrative clarity that could easily be remedied with more intentional directorial choices.
It’s safe to say that, if/when this opens at Sadlers Wells with professional dancers, I am buying tickets as soon as they go on sale.
Wee Man is a part of the 2025 Edinburgh Fringe and runs from 31 July – 24 August. Get your tickets here: https://www.edfringe.com/tickets/whats-on/wee-man